


Sweaters

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [18]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff and Crack, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Vampire Family, emphasis on crack, internet translations bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because even vampires in the midst of an as-yet-indefinably-large crisis wind up acting like goofy sitcom roommates sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweaters

**Author's Note:**

> Part one, "A Window Opens."

“Look at you two playin’ house,” Jessica giggles as she walks in, arranging her hair and tugging her clothes into place.  She’s not the last to wake up by any means, but given the melancholy moods that have overtaken her lately, she often takes her sweet time getting ready and emerging.

Eric and Nora glance at each other, then back at her.  “I don’t know what you mean,” Nora says airily.  (She’s more likely to get away with it, being less aware of ordinary social cues.)

“Yeah you do,” Jessica insists, leaning against the counter and gesturing around the practically-sparkling kitchen.  “You’re in here tidying up, all slow like normal people, and wearin’ your cute fuzzy sweaters.”

“It’s a new house, or at least one we’re just moving back into for the time,” Eric shrugs.  “Of course we have to clean up.”  He opens the fridge to rearrange some stray bottles of TruBlood, going extra-fast just to contradict her commentary.  “Nothing strange about it.”

“Fuzzy sweaters,” Jessica repeats, because really, that was more the point.  “Y’all look like you’re in an 80s comedy about a weekend at your long-lost high school friend’s log cabin.”

Nora makes a face.  “I don’t see how our sweaters are any different than yours,” she mutters.  Indeed, the redhead has an intricately-pattered red and blue one pulled on over her blouse and jeans.  It would seem they’ve all decided to dress for winter today.  “That’s just as – log cabin, isn’t it?”

“Mine’s not big enough to be a dress,” Jessica points out, nodding at Nora’s decidedly oversized sandy-gray-brown number before scrunching her nose up at Eric’s.  “Or, you know, the manly equivalent.”

His own expression playful and more understanding (well, his sister’s social failings are only halfway her fault, really), Eric wraps an arm around her shoulders.  “I think what she’s saying is that we seem a certain kind of domestic,” he muses, eying Jessica coolly.  “Foolishly domestic, even.  If I may suppose.”

“Not foolish,” Jessica clarifies hurriedly.  “Just, you know, kinda – oh my god, are those elbow patches?”

“That’s her fault,” Eric shrugs, kissing Nora’s hair to show he means it sweetly.

“Oh, don’t get me started on the ridiculous things you’ve gotten me into,” she mutters, ducking away.  Really, there aren’t _too_ many (dressing up being her game more often than not) but this teasing is really par for the course.

“Still,” Jessica says, figuring it best to graciously change the subject.  “It looks pretty decent in here.”

Eric and Nora beam at each other, or Nora beams and Eric smirks, which is the same thing.  “Pam would kill me if I let her dollhouses get too dirty,” he declares wryly. 

“Please,” Pam laughs, entering with her arm around Tara’s waist.  “You’re just as finicky as I am.”

Eric chuckles, extracting a bottle from the fridge and sliding it across the counter.  “Share, you two,” he instructs, letting his gaze travel between the women.  “We’re still limited.”

“What’s with the giant-ass sweaters?” Tara asks, raising an eyebrow at Eric and Nora.  Pam takes a long sip of synthetic blood, then showily kisses Tara as she hands the bottle over.

“They’re cozy!” Nora exclaims defensively, pouting.

“I could ask you the same,” Eric says simultaneously, looking them over.  “Very nice winter coat there, Pamela.”

“Hey, we were checkin’ up on the security outside,” Pam deadpans, batting her eyelashes.  “It’s fuckin’ storming out there, and I have to keep my clothes pretty.”

“Security,” Eric repeats.  He turns to Nora and Jessica, who have easily become his partners-in-crime in teasing.  “Do you think that’s all they were doing out there?  Pam’s back _does_ look suspiciously muddy.”

Jessica can’t help but grin, but she’s the nice one in this, so she ultimately just shrugs; Nora, being the politely sarcastic one, adopts a serene expression and declares, “I’m sure it’s not, and it certainly does.”

“Yeah, and I hope you two cleaned that counter after y’all fucked on top of it,” Tara retorts bluntly. 

Jessica really peeks over the counter for the first time, and to her lack of surprise, she notices that neither Eric nor Nora have pants on under those fuzzy sweaters.  She _should_ have noticed their sex hair already, but she’s chalking that up to willful ignorance.  “Really, you guys?” she just has to sigh.  “Are you gonna do it on _everything_?”

“You’re welcome to join us any time you like,” Nora declares, more sweetly than the others in the room might make the offer and somehow making it sound more like it’s out of the goodness of her heart than anything lascivious.  (Even if they all know better than that.)

Of course, everyone gapes at her once she’s said it: Pam as if to chide her for her idiocy, Tara mildly horrified, Eric like he’s about to start laughing, and Jessica, poor Jessica, utterly dumbfounded.  For a minute, all she can do is blink wildly, stumble onto one of the barstools lining the counter; she finally manages to stammer, “Uh, tha-a-anks for the heads-up?”

“ _Blev att ett skämt, syster_?” Eric whispers.

Nora stares back at him innocently.  “Should it have been?”

“ _Om du vet vad som är bra för dig_ ,” Pam mutters, dry as all hell.

“Secrets don’t make friends,” Tara sing-songs, coyly childish.

“I'm sorry, baby,” Pam coos sarcastically.  “Do you want us to have a secret code too?  Don’t they make you learn languages in school now?  Spanish or something?”

“Know it,” Nora grins, figuring it best to disclaim and thus negate the secret code aspect.

“French, actually,” Tara admits, unamused though she is.  “Or at least that’s what I took.  But it was longer ago than you think and I was shit at it.”

“Know it anyhow,” Nora chirps, hopping on the counter to sit in her most “nobody would ever suspect right now that I’m the second oldest vampire in the room” way.

“Overachiever,” Eric teases.

Jessica snags the bottle of TruBlood from the counter and takes a quick sip before anyone can stop her.  “We should all have a secret code anyway,” she suggests.  “That’d be smart, right?”

“We’re not _playing spies_ ,” Pam rolls her eyes.

“And anyway, the jury is still out on how effective it would be,” Nora sighs.  “Gods are meant to have knowledge of all tongues.”

Eric reaches behind to pull her arms around his shoulders, shaking his head.  “Not right now, _älskling_ ,” he says softly.  No need to get into the unpleasantness.

“I know that one’s a pet name,” Jessica exclaims, grinning like it’s a great victory.  “You say it like all the time.”

Eric and Nora shrug at each other.  Suddenly this has become funny.  “I say lots of things all the time, and they aren’t all pet names,” he points out.  “ _Satkärring, småtting_.”

“ _Knulla mig_ _svårare_ ,” Nora adds, her voice low and devious in his ear. 

“ _Böja sig över och låt mig ta dig från bakom_.”

“ _Kedja mig till bädden –_ ”

“ _Ge mig en paus_ ,” Pam interrupts before it goes too far, rolling her eyes.  “ _Jag behöver inte_ _de tarvliga detaljer om dina intima möten_.”

“Why?” Nora giggles, sitting sharply up and ruffling Eric’s hair, slotting right back into the fun-loving, chipper sweater girl role just to be aggravating.  “Heaven knows we hear all of the details of yours.” 

Well, Pam and Tara are neither of them exactly quiet.

“The details of your what?” Jessica asks suspiciously.  She and Tara have been watching all of this like a tennis match: curious, then perplexed, then mildly alarmed, then back to curious (in a morbid kind of way).

“Somehow I don’t think we wanna know,” Tara mumbles.  She’s got a pretty good clue, but that’s quite enough for her.

Observing the way Pam is smirking, the way Eric and Nora keep making eyes at each other, Jessica figures that’s probably accurate.   “Yeah, I don’t think they’re just talking about sweaters,” she sighs, chuckling.

**Author's Note:**

>  _blev att ett skämt, syster_ ; "was that a joke, sister"  
>  _Om du vet vad som är bra för dig_ ; "if you know what's good for you"  
>  _älskling_ ; "sweetheart"  
>  _satkärring, småtting_ ; "bitch, baby"  
>  _knulla mig svårare_ ; "fuck me harder"  
>  _böja sig över och låt mig ta dig från bakom_ ; "bend over and let me take you from behind"  
>  _kedja mig till bädden_ ; "chain me to the bed"  
>  _ge mig en paus_ ; "give me a break"  
>  _jag behöver inte de tarvliga detaljer om dina intima möten_ ; "I do not need the sordid details of your intimate encounters"


End file.
